


After Hours

by CherryIntestines



Category: The Wolf Among Us
Genre: Anal Sex, Emotional Manipulation, Hand Jobs, M/M, One Shot, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 01:46:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4329009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryIntestines/pseuds/CherryIntestines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bigby is alone in his apartment when he gets a visitor in the middle of the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After Hours

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this last year, but never posted it to this site. Well, it's here now I guess.

It’s past midnight already, but the burly man cannot find some much needed rest. Nothing in particular keeps the sheriff awake, the reception for his small apartment being mediocre at best. His worries are kept at a constant low level, for the fear of death doesn’t linger over him. His appearance is human enough that he has no use for Glamours. The only thing that keeps the sheriff awake is his inevitable fate that he rarely admits to even himself; his perpetual loneliness.  
After his daily dealings with the stubborn assholes the business office demands he protect, he is greeted by the dark, small space he calls home; the odor of week old take out is mostly masked by the ever present stench of cheap cigarettes. Bigby knows he probably won’t get his security deposit back on the tiny room, but he gave up on the hope long ago when he kept the space cluttered and dirty for months at a time.  
Being the sheriff is a very demanding job; it leaves very little time for himself. Even if he actually had people that could tolerate his rough demeanor enough to spend time with him outside work, he wouldn’t have time for them. The only Fable he sees outside of work is Colin, but he stays away for sometimes weeks at a time. No sane Fable would visit the Big Bad Wolf in the middle of the night; considering his reputation and the unconventional hour of the day. Bigby would do what he does most nights, crack open a bottle of cheap bourbon and do the piles of paper work crowding his desk.  
The sound of boisterous knocks on the door interrupted his pouring. Bigby cursed the fact that his door lacked a peephole so he could take a glance at the son of a bitch bothering him at half past midnight on a fucking Thursday. A peephole was unnecessary in this particular instance; the next sound that boomed from outside the apartment was distinguishable enough.  
“Open the blasted door, sheriff! I know you’re home!”  
Bluebeard. He would be the one to nag him about irrelevant bullshit at this ungodly hour.   
The aged face twisted into a grimace as he lit a cigarette and stalked toward the door; a tiny chain lock drooped down as it detached from it’s place. One annoyed face met another as the door swung open, almost hitting the lady killer in the nose. He took a quick step out of the door’s path before he began his lecture aimed at the stoic wolf.  
“How long does it take to answer the damn door? I know for a fact that you heard me on the first few knocks! Have some common courtesy for once in your life. Think of how you reflect on your superiors in the business office.”  
The only response the cheeky comments procured were a deep drag on a low-end cigarette. The sheriff sidestepped and stared down the wealthy man with a fatigued expression, silently inviting the other man inside. Bluebeard made it a point to roll his eyes defiantly before entering the compact abode.  
Bigby strolled past the baron on his way to the small table; he finished pouring his drink before facing the other man again.  
“What, you won’t even offer your guest a drink?” The question was once again met in silence as the sheriff sipped his bourbon.  
“Well you’re not exactly a guest, are you? Guests are welcome into a place. You don’t exactly fit that description.”  
“I cannot believe that I went out of my way, despite my busy schedule, to visit you, and all I get in return is unspeakable sass.”  
“If you hate me so much, why don’t you fuckin’ leave?” This time, a deep chuckle made it’s way from the former villain’s throat.   
“I think staying would be in both our best interests.”  
The smug reply ,that was first met with confusion, was immediately contorted into one of sheepishness. He looked away from the man with glasses, refusing to make eye contact as he took another drag on his Huff n’ Puff. After a minute of stifling silence, the sheriff finally spoke up.  
“I thought you were here on a business call.”  
“I said nothing of the sort. Can’t I have a friendly encounter with a former villain such as myself?”  
“Don’t you have more important things to be doing? Like, complaining on how the business office is wasting your precious funding as an example.”  
Before the inexpensive cigarette could reach Bigby’s lips, Bluebeard had snatched it out of the calloused grip and thrown it on the floor. The deeply aged face of the sheriff quickly changed from annoyance to burning hatred as his eyes briefly turned a burning yellow; he suppressed the instinct to rip the taller man’s limbs from his torso.  
“Look, if you’re just gonna come here to wreck my shit, then you can leave before I make you leave. I don’t want you here, and I don’t need you here.”  
“You see Wolf, that’s where you’re wrong. You might not want this arrangement, but we both know you certainly need it. Everyone fears you, no one wants to see you. You have no one, and everyone would be happier if your menacing corpse was on it’s way down the witching well. The people closest to you rely on your usefulness; that is the sole reason why they don’t seek to snuff you out.”  
Bigby’s gaze wavered slightly under the bitter words; Bluebeard took the opportunity to step closer to the burly man. The sheriff’s posture straightened, concern slowly spreading on his face. The man in red detected another emotion on the beastly man.

Sorrow? No, surely not from the legendary Big Bad wolf. Must be something else.  
“I am very much aware that you attempt to be the hero Ms. White wants you to be. But no matter how many errands you run, how many disputes you settle, you’ll always be the merciless monster from your past. Stop fighting your true nature. Trust me, I speak from experience.”  
The scorn returned to the weary man’s stare. He shoulders tensed again before he replied, “I really don’t think you came here to make speeches all night. Just do what you gotta do and fuck off.”  
“Fine, have it your way. That’s what I get for trying to help you, I suppose.”  
“Yeah, yeah. Just shut the hell up and get on with it already.”  
The space was finally closed as the taller man took the final step forward. He looked down at the stocky Fable in front of him, waiting for a sign of admission; the sheriff rolled his eyes.  
“We don’t have all night -”  
The brazen remark was cut short when Bluebeard shoved Bigby forcefully toward the lounge chair at the far side of the room. The Wolf suppressed a pained groan as his lower spine met painfully with the solid side of the chair. His infuriated reaction was delayed when he found the bearded man crowded next to him, with a hand that pulled at his long hair, leaving a stinging in his scalp. Pearly white teeth gnawed at the exposed, stubbly neck. A huff of discontent could be heard from the assailant.  
“Is it really asking too much to shave once in a while?”  
The pinned sheriff reached a hand out to pat the villain’s head arrogantly.

“I think you’re bald enough for the both of us.”  
“Always did had a smart mouth, Wolf.”  
An eager palm began to grind into the bristly sheriff’s groin as he resumed marring the prickly neck with purplish bites. Bigby winced at the blunt teeth that sliced narrow cuts into his skin, and at the harsh pressure bruising his tough flesh. The wolf used an equally bruising grip as he dug his calloused fingers into the Baron’s shoulders. A drab hand pulled at the worn black tie loosely adorning the sheriff’s neck, tossing it thoughtlessly to side. Voracious hands pulled the front of his dress shirt, successfully ripping half of the buttons off in the process.  
Bigby watched the satisfied expression worn on Bluebeard’s face as the wealthy man maneuvered his coarse body to face the comfy chair behind him. The sheriff heard the jingling of a belt being undone, and soon after the metallic sound of a fly being unzipped. Black slacks and underwear were pulled off in unison, his erection pressing uncomfortably into the leather arm of the chair.   
The shorter man struggled to keep his expression as stoic as possible, as to not give the wealthy man knowledge of his shame. To submit to the baron was bad enough, but to be so worked up by the abuse? It was pathetic. He couldn’t keep his face from burning bright red. If Bluebeard was smug before, he was positively beaming with pride now. Bigby was thankful he wasn’t able to see the other man’s face ; he wasn’t sure if he would have the willpower to stop himself from ripping the expression off of the conceited bald head.  
“Why so silent sheriff? Are you not enjoying yourself?” a deep voice questioned. The burly man’s breathing had become labored, his muscled torso trembling slightly in front of him. The rich man reached a hand to the wolf’s front, he was met with a thick cock steadily dripping precome.  
“Oh no, it’s quite the opposite. I’m surprised at you Bigby. We’ve only just started.”  
The taunting had the sheriff grasping the chair cushions in a vice grip; he attempted to tune out the crude remarks. An offending hand squeezed the slick erection, while the other mercilessly twisted each of his nipples until they were both a deep shade of red. The pressure on the cock was more painful than pleasurable, the hand clapped down tightly as he stroked excruciatingly slow. He stroked from the base to the tip, stopping each time to grind a thumb into the delicate, oozing slit.  
The wolf gritted his teeth together, determine to mute any of his desperate sounds, whether they were of discomfort or desire. He could feel his orgasm drawing closer and closer with each movement of the thumb pressing against the throbbing head of his cock. Bigby tried to take his mind off of coming; he dug his blunt nails into the soft cushions, he bit his lip until he tasted blood. His efforts went to waste, he let out a low groan through he closed teeth as he spilled his hot cum all over the baron’s fingers.  
“My, my, that was quick. Perhaps I shouldn’t wait so long between visits. I had no idea you were so desperate for release.”  
Bigby unclenched his teeth and slumped against the chair arm, still tingling from his powerful orgasm.  
“Would you just shut the fuck up for two seconds?” There was no force behind the sheriff’s breathless words.  
The clothed chest behind Bigby rumbled as the villain snickered in amusement. Moist fingers pressed insistently against the split, bleeding lips. He realized the fingers were coated in his own warm semen; the fingers spread the musky substance around the cut lips, demanding entrance into his mouth. A low groan sounded from the sheriff and he craned his head away from the pungent liquid threatening to coat his tongue. A powerful hand gripped the side of Bigby’s face, pulling it towards the sticky hand. A scolding sound could be heard from Bluebeard before he spoke up again.  
“I just did you a favor Wolf. The least you could do is to clean up your mess.”  
A sigh a resignation slipped out of the sheriff’s mouth; he relaxed his neck and let the brutish hand guide his frowning lips to the fingers. His mouth opened reluctantly, and the fingers wasted no time making their way to the warm, moist orifice. The slippery organ lapped at the thick digits, sucking his own creamy ejaculate off one finger at a time. He gagged more than once before the degrading action was finished.  
Bigby knew not to breathe a sigh of relief. Bluebeard never does anyone favors; he wouldn’t leave without pleasing himself. The one most important to the baron was himself. Well, himself and his money, that is.  
The pair of hands, now semen free, made their way down to Bigby’s lower half; they squeezed the rounded, tanned flesh they found there. The sheriff placed his scruffy hands across his mouth to muffle his soft whines as cruel hands relentlessly kneaded his backside. He cursed himself when he felt the beginning of arousal return.  
Why the fuck am I getting off on this shit? I really need to get laid more often...  
Bigby recoiled at the sound of undergarments being unfastened behind him; he braced himself for what he knew would be the most agonizing part of their meetings. The powerful hands spread him wide, and he could feel a thick cock prodding at clenching hole. His whole body went rigid; he held the chair arm in his inhumanly powerful grasp.  
Fire-like pain enveloped the wolf’s unprepared hole as the brutish man behind him thoughtlessly thrusted forward. A distressed groan filled the dim room, soon accompanied by a low moan from the man in glasses. The hands that were once on the sheriff’s ass found their place on his sturdy hips, the thumbs caressed the smooth skin there. The sheriff’s jaw clenched painfully as he felt a jagged tearing around the thick organ forcing its way inside of him. The hot flesh was dragged out slowly, almost to the tip, before it was promptly shoved in again. A pained growl escaped from Bigby’s throat, his nails began to rip the chair’s leathery fabric.  
The torturously fast pace began almost immediately, giving the sheriff no time to adjust. The thick cock scraped it’s way in and out of the sheriff, wrenching droplets of blood out of each pull backwards. The blood and seminal fluid eased the friction to a degree, but could not stop the biting burn of the torn inner walls. The sizable length reached deep inside of the wolf, grazing a sensitive bundle of nerves. The nerves’ sensations battled with the intense pain, Bigby released his inhibitions and allowed the pleasure to overshadow the crippling pain.  
The grasp on the wolf’s hips were unyielding. The thumbs felt as if they were scraping right on the bone, like the muscle had slid out of the way from the strain placed on it. The already fast thrusts quickened into a desperate pace; the baron pulling Bigby towards him to deepen each thrust. The sheriff’s mind was muddled with need as he rutted against the chair supporting with against the villainous man. Stray hairs stuck to his sweaty forehead, his composure slipping as he was pounded into the chair.  
Bigby’s second orgasm came with a loud cry; he coated the ripped leather with his hot seed. He hadn’t had time to relax his recovering body, Bluebeard was still pounding into him mercilessly. Short nails dug into the tops of the sheriff’s hip bones, drawing out thick droplets of blood. The mighty hips slammed into the sheriff one last time before filling his insides with the baron’s viscous essence. The baron muttered something before his climax, but the sheriff didn’t care to listen; the sheriff blocked out any outside ambience that could ruin his marvelous afterglow. Bluebeard removed his hands from Bigby’s hips, he gave the tanned ass a condescending pat before sliding his flaccid member out of the abused hole. He pulled a hankerchief out of his dress pants pocket; we wiped himself off before haphazardly tossing the moist cloth to Bigby. The sheriff toweled off his own softening cock before wiping the cooling mixture of blood and semen from inbetween his legs. Bigby didn’t have to look up to know that Bluebeard was watching him. He continued to ignore him until the other man spoke up.  
“It’s a shame you heal so fast Bigby. Red and purple are very becoming on you,” the baron said in a voice surprisingly void of malice, like he was actually giving a compliment. Bigby lazily craned his head towards Bluebeard before giving an unamused reply.  
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”  
“Yes, I suppose. I’ll see you at the business office in the morning. Hopefully you’ll retain your charming colors so Ms. White can appreciate them as well.”  
Bigby flushed red before giving Bluebeard’s back a death glare as he swiftly headed out the door. He pulled on his boxers, leaving his discarded shirt and pants on the floor. He poured him self another glass of bourbon, downing it quickly. He took another glance at the mountains of paperwork laying menacingly on his desk. He briefly considered starting the massive amount of work before laughing to himself.  
Fuck this, I’m going to sleep.


End file.
